


You're Never Gonna Fit in Much Kid

by frankierospants



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Frerard, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 14,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankierospants/pseuds/frankierospants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank doesn't need some weird high schooler to walk him home. He is in eighth grade, for Christ's sake! But what Frank doesn't realize is that this high schooler may help him in the long-run. They always said life was a roller coaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Was Going to be a Long Year

"Mom! You have GOT to be kidding me, right? I'm not like, 7! I'll be fine! I am in EIGHTH GRADE!"  
"I know Frank, I know. I just was to make sure you are okay!"  
"I'm not doing it."  
"Yes you are Frank, now stop being a baby.".  
"I'm not."  
"Yes you are."  
"No."  
"FRANK ANTHONY IERO! IF YOU ARE NOT ON THAT CORNER WAITING WHEN SCHOOL ENDS, I WILL BREAK ALL OF YOUR GUITARS. IM FUCKING WARNING YOU!"  
"UGH MOM! You are SO unfair!" Frank yelled as he stomped into the bleak sun, slamming the wood door behind him producing a bang that you could probably hear for miles.   
Frank walked the unfamiliar path to Belleville Middle School. See? He was fine! Frank didn't understand why he needed someone to WALK HIM HOME after school. He was going to look like a complete idiot.  
On the long walk to his torture chamber, Frank rubbed his temples. This was going to be a long year. Did mom even tell him what this kid's name was? Maybe? All Frank remembered was that this, whatever his name was, was going to walk from the High School to his school every day and walk him home. That was bullshit. Frank didn't need a babysitter. He was almost 15. What was his GADDAMN NAME?! Gerry?   
Frank soon arrived to those large front doors, and made his way inside.


	2. Lead Feet

Frank grew more and more frustrated every single minute that passed. He sat on the curb by the bus stop, and waited, and waited, and waited. Seriously, was this dude ever going to show up? 

Just as Frank was about to give in and start walking home himself he heard something. 

"Hey! Kid! Are you Frank? Hello?!" he yelled. The boy was in a slight jog, and you could hear the pound of his backpack against his back, sneakers hitting the pavement, as he waved goodbye to someone down the street. 

Frank stopped in his tracks, turned to face the boy, and crossed his arms. "What's it to you?" 

The boy looked frustrated by Frank's child-likeness. "I'm supposed to bring you home?" 

Frank rolled his eyes."I really don't need anybody to walk me home. I'm not a baby!" 

The boy sighed." Whatever. Just come with me," he said and started to walk. It wasn't until the boy was halfway down the block that he realized that Frank wasn't following him. "Are you coming or not?!" 

Frank have him a dramatic eye roll and crossed his arms the other way. "Not." 

The boy put a palm to his forehead and let out a deep breath. He looked a Frank again, up and down, and looked as though he had a silent agreement with himself. 

The boy walked back to Frank, and threw him over his shoulder. 

This took Frank my complete surprise. Seriously, what the fuck? The boy did NOT look like the strong type. Even though he really didn't care enough to get a good look at him, he kinda looked like the kind of boy who sits in his basement drawing all day (not that he had anything against that). He was thin, and wore tight ducking jeans and Frank could not believe he can hold him. 

Frank flailed around as much as possible but the boy did not loosen his grip. "Let me down!" 

"No!" 

"I am completely capable of walking!" 

"It didn't seem that way before." 

The boy continued to carry him down the streets, and finally, when they got about half a block away from Frank'a house, he put him down. 

Not used to the wright on his legs, Frank collapsed, but the boy caught him just in time before Frank hit the ground. As the boy caught Frank, he couldn't help to notice that the boy had really, really pretty hazel eyes. 

His cheeks grew pink as he realized he was staring. And it looks like the boy did too, because he smirked, lifted him up, and they continued walking. 

When they arrived at Franks front door, Frank's mom was just pulling up, "Hey boys! How are you guys?" 

Both the boys smiled and mumbled some variation of 'good'. 

The boy shook hands with Franks mom, said he would see her tomorrow, and gave Frank a pat on the back and a smile, flashing those really nice eyes at him again. 

As he walked away, his black hair flew behind him, and Franks mother called after him, "Bye Gerard!"


	3. Big Boy

Frank woke up each morning to the loud and irritating buzz if his cell phone. The sun creeping through the shades was definetly trying to kill him, or as Frank thought. 

In the begining, he woke up for school each and every day with no delay, just equally amount as eager as the day before. He had a new friend, his name was Bob. Despite his blonde hair and blue eyes, this guy could be a monster is he wanted to. But Bob wasn't in school a lot because he was in this program where he goes to hughschool sometimes to take classes. Frank endlessly gave him shit about it, the nerd. 

The deeper into the school year it became, the less and less motivated Frank was to get up. Those big diopside, origonnaly open to anyone who chose to enter, the ones that offered a place to learn and be happy, proved to be false advertising, because they slowly morphed into a jail cell hate that kept him trapped into the name calling and picking on because of what he liked or what he wore. Occasional freedom from this when he had a music block, or free where he spent his time in the band room. 

But, no matter how shitty his day was, Frank took the this well. Frank was a big boy and didn't need anybody's help, and could handle things himself. Life went on, and that was a proven fact. 

The boy that was Gerard, who was late on his first day to pick Feank up, also proved a little different of himself. He was barely ever late. He was usually waiting for Frank by the bus stop, occasionally with some dude with a mighty curly Afro he came to know as Ray. 

Even though Frank always gave Gerard a hard time, Gerard was always really kind to him. There was never a silent moment, Gerard just talked and talked and talked. 

"So Frank! How was your day?" 

"Hey! I heard you play guitar!" 

"Wow, are you cold? Freezin'!" 

"How do you like this scarf on me?" 

Frank rarely answered. Occasionally just looking up at the boy and gazing into his eyes, but quickly looking away after he realized what he was doing. Never did Gerard let Frank's silence keep him from taking, though. Holy shit, sometimes Frank wished he had a mute button for Gerard. It had only been about two and a half weeks and Frank learned Gerard loves rock, he loves art, and that he has a lot in common with Frank. 

But Frank doesn't fucking care because be doesn't need a fucking walk home. He is NOT a baby, and he refuses to talk to this idiot, even if he is kinda awesome and has pretty eyes ( shut the fuck UP Frank). 

Despite Franks hatred toward Gerard, they had the very rare good fun walks home. Sometimes they would stop at the comic shop and Frank would make nasty comments about what a fucking dirk Gerard was under his breath, but Frank secretly smuggled a few under his jacket select times. And that one time when it started raining and Frank didn't have a jacket, so Gerard gave his to Frank, where Frank heavily refused and threw it back at him, but Gerard insisted, and Frank secretly enjoyed it because it smelled like Gerard (Frank, why the fuck of you even CARE.) 

But there was one day in particular that completely shocked Frank. And it had nothing to do with the kids at school, or Gerard. 

"Yes Frank, really." 

"No, you have got to be kidding me." 

"Frank, I know, but you really need to just accept it." 

Frank had no idea what Frank'a mom and Gerard were talking about a few minutes prior, but now he really wishes he stepped in, so maybe he could have stopped it before he watched Gerard smile as he walked down the driveway towards his home. Now he was gone until it was too late. 

"MOM I DO NOT NEED A BABYSITTER!" 

"Frank! I am going to be gone for three days! I can't just leave you by yourself and I have nobody else to watch you!" 

Frank covered his face with his palm, and screamed "MOOOOMMMM IM NOT A BABY AND I CAN DO THINGS BY MYSELF!" 

"Frank, case closed. Starting Monday, Gerard is babysitting you until Thursday. Case closed. I cannot miss this buisness trip, and he is our only option."


	4. When I Say Run

Frank kicked the pavement as he dragged himself out of school. Shitty day. Not even like the normal shitty day- tad at was shitty with some extra crap on top. 

He sat near the bus stop, an act he had grown very accustomed to from repeating it each day. He could see Gerard in the distance, on his way to pick him up. 

As he waited, Frank pondered the days ahead of him-with nobody at home but Gerard. He didn't like the idea. It was going to be awkward and boring, and what the hell? Gerard was going to be sleeping right across from him in the guest room! 

Gerard was maybe a twenty feet from Frank when Frank noticed them. Wow, could he not believe it, they never walked this way! That's why he came out this way! 

He glanced nervously as he spied the group of boys about half a block behind Gerard. They all looked the same. Same short, dark hair, expensive sweaters and sneakers. The smirks that were identical on each of their faces made Frank want to barf. He knew those smirks. They were the same ones that those boys made when the shoved Frank in his locker each day, sometimes letting him off easy with a few punches. Besides, the only difference between the boys was that one of them had blue eyes-the pack leader. That's what they were like, a pack if wolves that prey on those weaker-except Frank wasn't weaker, just out outnumbered. 

But they wanted Frank for dinner. 

As all this was happening, Gerard was just smiling and waving at Frank without a care in the world. Only when Frank wasn't responding did Gerard make a weird face. When Gerard reached Frank, the pack still a half block behind, Frank looked him in the eye and told him, "Gerard. Gerard pay fucking attention, I don't fucking CARE if you spotted a new bird species today! Gerard, pay attention. Just keep quiet, and walk, don't look back unless I tell you to. And if I say run, fucking run. Got it?" 

Gerard looked really confused but got the idea that there was something not quite right so he nodded. 

They walked a few blocks in silence, and Gerard looked really bored, because damn, he never stopped talking. Frank perked behind him-they were still there- one of the boys noticed and smirked, said something to the gang, and they took off like lightning towards Gerard and Frank. 

Frank grabbed Gerard's arm and screamed at him to run. You could tell they were both running as fast as they could. You know what?- and Frank had thought about this before- it is amazing how, with all the people passing by- nobody stops. Frank was falling behind Gerard-crap was he fit- and the boys were catching up to him. 

As they raced, Frank tried to ignore the remarks they made. 

'Comon' Fag! Run!' 

'Cant ya go any faster pixie!' 

'Gay shits like you need to be beaten straight!' 

One of them caught hold of Franks bookbag-but Frank was quick- he slid the backpack from his arms and kept running. Though with good efforts, they still caught him, and within milliseconds they had him on the floor- three boys on top of him, punching him, two on his sides, kicking him. 

It only took a Gerard a few moments to realize his teammate was down, and he was on his way back into the fire in an instant. Gerard ran over and punched the guys kicking Frank, getting punched in the eye in the mean time. It only took a few kicks to get one if the kids on top of Frank off, same with the other, and there was only one left- the one with blue eyes. 

The boy and Gerard stared at eachother, he looked frightened. 

"Boo!" Gerard teased, as he watched the last boy run down the block. 

Gerard kneeled next to Frank. 

"Frank! Buddy! Are you okay? Can you hear me?" 

Frank would've plusher if his face wasn't in so much pain, but he spit back a yes. 

"Frank, honey, it's okay. Common' lets get back to the house and clean you up." 

Gerard scooped up Frank. Frank looked up at him, and Gerard looked pretty bad, blood dripping from his nose and bruises allready starting to firm on his face. Frank couldn't even think about what he looked like-he whimpered. 

"Shhhhh, Frank. Shit. You'll be fine. Just close your eyes. And goddamnit, you've got some explaining to do later." 

As they arrived at Frank's house! Gerard unlocked the door and immediately sat on the couch-he was exhausted-still holding Frank. After a few moments, Gerard set Frank down and looked at him, 

"Where's the First Aid kit?" 

Frank pointed to a caninet. And before starting to move towards it, Gerard gave Frank one last look, and Frank couldn't help but see the pain and fear and confusion in Gerard's eyes.


	5. Cold Feet

As Frank opened his eyes little by little, the pain struck him almost as soon as his nerves caught up with his consciousness. His pupils seemed 

waked out by the sudden light, with every dilation his vision blurred as if black ink was smashed right into his picture. 

As Frank's system gain what little strength, he finally took his first look around. He first noticed the clock and that it was nearly 5 am, and by the way his feet are dangling in the air, he could tell very well that he was not in his bed but in the living room on the couch. 

He took a sharp intake of breath as he heard a small whimper- he was relieved that the figure passed out about a foot away from him was not a possum that managed to sneak into the house through a crack in the basement, nor the three headed cyclops that haunted his dreams as a child. 

Although he was huddled in a ball, Frank could tell almost immediately that it was Gerard by the black fuzzy hair that covered his head and the way his jeans clung to his calves but were a little looser around the knees and ankles. 

Another feature of the boy next to him that Frank took in very quickly was not only the bruises on his face but the bags (and Frank could vaguely make out lines going down his cheek where the salt from tears could burn his already damaged flesh) under his eyes. And the sketchbook lying next to him. 

This was when Frank looked down at himself and finally remembered what had happened. Examining the bandages around his knees and around his torso, he couldn't escape the fact that he was only wearing his boxers. The aid was wrapped to intricately and gingerly around him that Frank would've thought that one of those sweet nurses at the hospital put it on him. Although the aid given to him was too notch, Frank still caught sight of the disgustingly colored bruises peeking out of the wrapping. Putting two and two together, Frank looked over at Gerard and made the assumption that he had wrapped him up. 

Frank was thrown out of his thoughts when he heard a crackle from the other room. It definetly wasn't Gerard or him. And the last time he checked, frank didn't own any pets. 

The first step was brutal, he ached whenever he put even an ounce of pressure on his feet. Despite the pain, Frank took cautious steps toward the kitchen, and stood with his back against the wall where the doorway was so the intruder couldn't see him. 

Frank took a deep breath with every digit as he counted down from three, and after the countdiwn, Frank sprang into the room. 

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?! GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE COPS! I CAN KILL YOU YOU KNOW. I WILL FUCKING CHOKE YOU IF YOU TAKE ONE STEP NEAR ME!" 

"Woah! Woah! Dude, calm down, shhhh before you wake Gerard up!" the figure said back to him in a hushed voice. 

"EITHER EXPLAIN YOURSELF OR GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I KILL YOU." 

"Jesus Christ was Gerard right when he said you were feisty! Chill, I'm Mikey? Gerard's brother!" he said with his hands up as though he were surrendering to the fuzz. 

Frank stared at the lanky figure dumbfounded. "Wait, you're Mikey?" 

Mikey rolled his eyes and placed his hand on his hip as he spoke, "Yeah, now please speak a little quieter. Gerard was up all night!" 

"Gerard was up all night? Why?" 

Mikey once again gave Frank a dramatic eye roll that would give any normal human an inferiority complex, "Wow, and he said you were really smart!" (It was time for frank to roll HIS eyes) "He was up all night looking after you!" 

With that, Mikey began to explain how as soon as Frank passed out Gerard freaked out and called Mikey over, but Mikey wasn't home so he couldn't come for a few hours. When he got there, Mikey found Gerard just staring at Frank while he was sleeping on the couch, putting his hand in front of Franks mouth every so often to make sure he was breathing. "He must've changed the bandages ten times!" Mikey told Frank. After much banter, Mikey finally convinced Gerard that Frank was going to be alright and that Mikey would look after him so he could rest. Even with this reassurance, Gerard still couldn't sleep. He had just fallen asleep maybe an hour before Frank had woken up. 

Frank listened, completely dumbstruck. Mikey noticed the confused look on Frank'a face. 

"He just cares a lot about you. You should tell him what went wrong on the way home when he wakes up. I think you should go back to sleep- you look a little pale." 

As Mikey spoke those last words Frank noticed the smirk that was forming ad he headed back to the couch. 

Frank stood over Gerard for a few moments, but promptly leaped to the side of the room again and returned with a bandage that he placed on the slice that divided Gerard's cheek. He kissed his own two fingers and placed it over the band aid before sitting about a foot away from Gerard as sleep grabbed his ankles and once again brought him under.


	6. Enveloped and Oblivious

/Gerard's POV (in third person? What?)/

The world was fuzzy as Gerard peeled his eyes open. He pulled his arms over his head, letting out a groan as his muscles reacted to his sudden movement. He tossed slightly as he shut his eyes again, just about ready to return to his blissful slumber, as he noticed that this certainly did not feel like his bed at home, and his back was certainly letting him know. And his butt was numb. This was when Gerard realized that he was in fact not home, but on Franks couch, and as the accounts of last night flooded through his subconscious he realized that Frank should actually be laying right next to him. 

But he was not.

Gerard pounced to his feet (his neck screamed at this sudden agility). At first he scanned the floor to make sure Frank had not fell off the couch and needed Gerard's aid.

He was not in the living room.

And this is the point where Gerar's eye catches a glimpse of the time. 11:30? Fuck, he did not expect to sleep this late. 

As his mind races to catch up with all the thoughts that are running through his head, he reaches a check mark, and that Mikey should be here somewhere.

"Mikey! Hey, Mikes, you here?" Gerard says in a hushed tone in case Frank was sleeping somewhere.

He stumbled into the kitchen, and when he saw not Frank not Mikey, he was about to leave and continue his search, when he finally sees a sticky note.

Addresses in Mikey's chicken scrawl, the neon pink note read:   
'G,  
It is 11. Frank is still sleeping. Going to get us some breakfast. Brb.  
-M'

Okay, at least they did by get abducted by aliens.

His feet carries him up the stairs. He honestly has no clue where to start. There must be 9 doors. He twists the doorknob to the first door on his left.

As the door opens, Gerard covers his head with his arms and rushes back in attempt to protect himself from the falling towels.

Closet.

He leaves the mess there, and he makes a mental note to clean it later. 

Just as he goes to open the second door, he stops, as he hears a noise.

He follows the sound, and it becomes slightly more audible as he gets further down the hallway, even though the sound is still very faint, delicate almost.

He stops as he comes across a door that he thinks might be his destination. It is the second to last door on the right- he makes another mental note.

He would say that he just had this had that 'feeling', but it would be a grave lie, as what probably told him was the huge sign that read,  
"FRANKS ROOM. DO NOT ENTER. PLEASE"

The 'please' was in pen, in contrast to the rest of the market showing that it was added later than the prior bit. He had an intuition it was Frank'a mom who was the culprit.

Despite the sign, Gerard just quietly, ever so quietly opened the door and took a pace into the room.

He stood there and watched Frank for quite a while- He sat in the corner with his legs crossed and an old, acoustic guitar on his lap. His eyes were closed, and his head just barely laid on the body. He looked so peaceful, completely enveloped in the beautiful and soft music he was creating, ad his lips made out words to go with the melody that Gerard could not make out.

Gerard took a few steps, making himself just a foot it two away from Frank, and sat criss cross, in front of him.

It was not untilGerard let out a small cough that Frank realized he was there. And when he did, Gerard could not tell if he was scared or angry.

As he backed further into the corner, Frank looked at Gerard," DIDN'T YOU READ THE SIGN?" His cheeks were pink.

"Oh, oh I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, or like, invade your space!" Gerard has his hands close to his chest, hoping Frank would not be mad.

"Ugh, I guess it's okay. Just knock next time?" Gerard nodded.

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Then Gerard breaks the ice. "So, what happened yesterday?"

Frank visually flinched and looked away from Gerard, obviously uncomfortable, "I don't want to talk about it."

Gerard sighed, "Common Frank, you can trust me."

Frank put his head in his hands, "Gerard I really don't want to talk about it."

Gerard frowned. He was determined. "Frank, I can't help you if you don't tell me about it."

Frank was getting frustrated, "Gerard, you can't help me."

Gerard was also growing frustrated and he stood up, making Frank feel even smaller in the corner with Gerard towering above him,"Frank just tell me!"

Frank was now angry. He stood up to face Gerard, "Gerard I SAID I don't want to talk about it! Now GET OUT!"

Gerard fought back, he was upset. "FINE WHATEVER. I DONT CARE. AND YOU KNOW WHAT FRANK? I HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT KIND TO YOU AND YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SHIT."  
With that Gerard slapped Frank furiously on his face and stalked out if the room and slammed the door behind him.

Frank sunk to the ground. Now he felt awful. He did not intend to make Gerard angry, he just couldn't bring himself to tell Gerard. He was embarrassed. A tear streamed down his cheek.

When Gerard left the room, he heard another door close beside Frank's. Fuck. Great, that means Mikey's home.

Gerard marched down the steps as Mikey entered the house, obviously startled by the hostility in Gerard and the loud bang.

"Hey, Gerard... I got breakfast....."

Mikey couldn't even finish before Gerard interrupted, "Watch him. I'm going out." As he slammed the door behind him.

Mikey stood in the parlor, oblivious.


	7. White Knuckles

Mikey stood in the small parlor, and held the brown bag tight in his hands, his knuckles white, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

He slowly creeps his way up the steps and towards the steps, and with one foot in front if the other, he climbs to the second floor. His mind was five steps behind his feet, even at this slow pace, so when he arrived at the closed door of Frank's bedroom, he was unsure what to do.

He knocked quietly at the door, very careful, gentle rasps as he called out to Frank like a scared puppy.

"Frank? Frank are you in there? Can I come in?"

Mikey continued to knock at the door, and call out to Frank. But after about ten minutes Mikey got more and more frustrated, and his knocking grew more and more intense.

After trying to reach Frank with no avail, he decided that maybe he just needed space. And just as he was about to walk away, he got a strange feeling.

Mikey needed to get into that room.

Mikey tried to open the door, and just as he suspected but hoped against, the door was locked. There was no way he was knocking that door down so he reached into his hair, and picked the lock of the old wooden door.

As he walked in, he called for Frank one last time before he realized his efforts were to no use.

Frank was gone, and his curtain danced with the breeze of his open window.

Mikey dropped the muffin bag.

He ran downstairs and was about to dial Gerard in the land line, when the phone rang. In panic, Mikey immediately picked up the phone and began to speak feverishly.

"Gerard, we've got a huge problem. Frank...."

Mikey was cut off by a voice much more feminine than Gerard's, and even in his down state, a lot more distressed.

"Hello? What's happened to Frank? Is he okay? Wait... Who the hell is this?"

"Mrs. Iero? Hello! Oh yes this is Mikey, Gerard's brother." Mikey was freaking out, but he tried to compose himself. "We were planning a little surprise for Frank because he was sick the past few days, as I'm sure Gerard has told you. But you see, Frank found one of the new movies we bought and I think he's onto us..."

"Holy Smokes! You had we worried. Yeah, Frank gets sick quite often and it really upsets him sometimes. He can be suck a burden, I don't know Gerard dealt with him. It's very nice you're helping. You are more than welcome to stay and watch Frank along with Gerard." Mrs. Iero spoke it all in what seemed like one breath.

"Oh he's really no trouble. He's really like a younger brother to us. Gerard really enjoys being with Frank." Mikey taps his foot violently really wishing this conversation would cut to the chase.

"Oh alright then. Actually I was wondering, and you can forward this to Gerard, my aunt passed away while I was on my trip. My cousin is really in ruins, and she asked is I could stay with her a whole and maybe help with the services. I called to ask if you could watch Frank for an additional two weeks? I am aware that winter break is coming up, and you fuss might have plans, and I could send him to stay with his grandmother but I really think he would rather be with you guys.."

Mikey cut her off he couldn't do this. He needed to find Frank and it pained him that she was completely oblivious to what was happening at the moment. "Yeah! Sure! We'd love to keep an eye on Frank! But I've really got to go, so Ill have Gerard call you later when he gets back. Bye! Thank you Mrs. Iero!"

Mikey didn't even give her enough time to say her farewell, as he slammed the phone, threw on his shoes and jacket, and ran out the door.

*

Gerard walked.  
And walked.  
And walked.

Gerard walked all his problems away. He had no idea where the hell he was going, but as soon as he saw somewhere appealing to his eye, he would stop. But as for right now, he just liked the feel of the wind cleaning his dirty scalp, his knees aching with every step, the cigarette pressed against his lips, and the burn in his lungs from the harsh, cold air.

As he walked, he could have swore he saw a kid with black hair that looked too much like Frank's to be healthy, but he turned the corner much to quickly to be sure of anything. 

Gerard rubbed his head. He was imagining things.

As covered some more blocks. His head soon cleared slightly, and he was thinking about how pretty the sun looked when it was setting like that, when his thoughts were cut short. He practically walked right into and toppled over one if his best friends.

"Gerard! How've you been? Come inside!"

Gerard obliged. He could go for a new comic book and a talk with Ray right now. Maybe even one for Frank. A sorry gift.

Gerard jumped right onto the counter as always.

"We got the new limited edition Doom Patrol figures!"

"Oh cool."

"Yeah, I'be had them on preorder since they were announced. Wanted to make sure I snagged a few."

Gerard responded with an equally as dry response as before. His head hurt now. Doom Patrol was the first comic he showed Frank.

"Hey man, what's wrong with you today? Usually you're pissing in your shit for this kind of stuff."

 

"I've just had a bad few days, that's all."

Ray encouraged Gerard to talk about it. He was reluctant at first, but not after long he gave in because he knew this might be good for him. 

He explained everything since the walk home. All right up until how he really wanted to make it up to him.

"Gerard, you really didn't do much. Im sure he'll forgive you." Ray tried his best to soothe Gerard in his fragile state.

"No, man. You should've seen me. I was really hard on him. And it wasn't his fault. He has had a rough couple days as well, and probably more than that. I was practically burning him with fire breath. And I'll never forgive myself for hitting him. I crossed the line there. But, I only did it because I hate seeing him hurt. When he was laying on that couch, all I could see was all the blood. All the bruises. I didn't want it to happen again, that's all. But Frank'a always been reserved with me. I should've been gentler." A small tear fell down Gerard's cheek.

"You seem like you really care about him."

"I really do. He reminds me of myself. You know, everyone loves an underdog because we see them in ourselves. But it seems as though he caught the short end if the deal. He has so much in him he's practically bursting, and he kills me."

With that, Gerard heard a cough that did not belong to him nor Ray, and he turned his head so quick his neck popped, and sat up.

Gerard stared. Gawked practically.

"Ray. I gotta go. Thank you for everything."

"Oh it's really no problem Gerard. Stop by anytime." He looked back and forth between the two boys, back and forth to see what would happen next.

Gerard just left silently, and as the bell dinged behind him Ray called out to the man across the shop. 

"What the hell Bert!"

****  
Gerard walked for a little longer. The sky now grew dark, and the city atmosphere covered up the stars, but the street lamps showered the street in a piss yellow color.

He lost track of time.

On his way home, he could've sword that he saw a bright pair of eyes, just like Franks, connect with his in an !unknown car that drove by.

But Gerard just played it off for his imagination again.


	8. Blue Lips

*Meanwhile*  
Frank ran his fingers through his hair.

He was fucking cold.

He's been walking around for only God knows how long, and he didn't have a jacket when he left, and it was the middle if fucking December, and he was cold.

And he needed to go inside somewhere.

And he sure as hell was not going home.

He weighed his options as he continued his journey and considered the places he was walking by.

All the little deli and soda stores were closed by this time, and even if they weren't, the clerks wouldn't let him stay long. They kicked him out when he took too long to decide which Arizona flavor to buy.

Pizza parlors scattered every other block, as did the little diners, but he knew that he would not be able to hide out in there as he didn't have the brains to take a single dollar with him before he hit the window.

He could try to go to a friends house but the snag there was that he didn't have any friends.

Frank let out a long sigh. As he breathed in, the frosty air attacked his lungs. They felt as if they were being enveloped by the weather. Frank really had to stop walking and get inside somewhere.

But where?

He grew more and more puzzled. He stopped paying attention to where he was, the street signs were irrelevant when you didn't know what direction to head. The number of blocks you walked became unimportant when you had no intentions if going back.

A sly whistle pulled him out if his trance.

His shoes stopped stomping against the concrete, he wiped his tears in his shirt, his hands went in his pockets (a comfort thing since he was little), and his head shot around to see who the identity of the whistler was.

The man smirked at him when he caught Frank's eyes.

The guy looked confident. His hair was black and stringy and hung in his face. He wore a black sweatshirt, with a grey t-shirt underneath. His pants clung to his legs- Frank really couldn't tell if they were supposed to look like that or if they were 4 sized too small. He has seen him before but he really can't put his finger on where... 

Frank must've zoned out, because the guy whistled again, "Hello..!"

Frank didn't respond.

"Frank..." The guy took a step forward

"H...how do y...you, how do you k-know..." Frank trembled through the sentence, and didn't even get to finished.

"You look cold." He smirked again. Frank didn't like it. But the guy took off his sweatshirt, and put it around Frank, too paralyzed with fear to even move.

"Come inside. I'll get you a drink- get your mind off things..."

"Yeah, I don't know, I've really got to get going..." Frank tried to push the sweater off and begin to walk away.

"Nonsense. It will be...fun."

Frank knew he didn't have a choice as the unknown man put his hand on his pack and pushed him along through the doors of the old bar.


	9. Warm Bodies

The air may have been sticky and stagnant inside the dark bar, but it was still a level up from the outside air that was threatening him with pneumonia.

"Two beers!"

Frank let his eyes wander over to the guy sitting next to him once again, but drew them back as soon as the other man's pair met his own.

Frank was slightly short if terrified. And he obviously wasn't old enough to drink. And even with the short exchange of words, mere glances, and very uncertain knowing, Frank knew that the other man was obviously not of age either, maybe close to it, but not quite there yet.

"So, why were you walking around out there by yourself?"

Frank cringed. Just the way his voice cut the air, Frank could see the look on his face, and detect the tone. He was sly, sharp, a little wary, and somehow...knowing? 

Frank chose not to answer. He just kicked his feet, stirring the air around them, slightly faster as they dangled from the high bar-stool (at least to Frank'a stature).

"Sensitive subject maybe?" The man stifled a little laugh, meant to go unnoticed, but Frank didn't miss it.

Frank still kept up his mute reputation.

"Not a talkative one, I see. Or are you...scared, Frank?" The mans eyes were burning on the side if Frank's head.

"You haven't touched your drink. Are you scared of that too, Frankie?" The guy snickered, not holding back, letting Frank know that he was making fun if him.

Frank turned his head quickly. "Fuck you," he spat. He expected the words to hit the guy and smack him across the face, but he seemed unharmed,

In fact, his lips curved up into a smile at Frank's response and the way Frank took a big gulp from the bottle.

"Oh? Well, If you insist." Franks entire face darkened many shades at the remark, but when the man reached over and placed a chaste kiss to his lips, Frank did not pull away- he was too utterly confused. The kids tasted like stake alcohol and cigarettes. He did not like the kiss.

The man smirked.

"But don't be too eager, Frankie. You may regret it one day if you come across a man less honest than I. So, why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

Frank gulped down another sip of his beer.

"Tell me. You can trust me."

The hell he can trust him! He was a random man! An random underage man. That just pulled an underage boy into a bar and gave him beer! But something about his eyes made Frank want to tell him all his deepest secrets.

Frank threw another splash of the poison at the back if his throat.

"Hm, maybe is it, family trouble?"

Frank sipped.

"School trouble?"

Frank sipped.

"Friend, ah! No! Bully trouble?"

Frank took a deep chug from the bottle.

A smile pulled at the mans lips. "Aha! I see. I understand. But that's not it, is it. Is it maybe... Boy troubles that are bothering you?"

He seemed to know the answers to all his questions.

Frank called for another beer.

"Frank talk to me, it will make you feel better."

When Frank still kept quiet, the man sighed.

"You know, a dear old friend of mine was having boy trouble, also. He was just telling me before. He said he was just looking after this kid, and he was really starting to like him. But the kid was being an asshole, and he realized that he was really nothing but a little brat. A money-maker really. He was racking in the cash from that job, too. Is gonna spend it all in booze now. He told me that he wasn't even going to look for him, that he was a gonner anyway, couldn't even survive a walk home from school by himself. A pansy, really. I felt bad for him, but I really did think he was going about this situation all wrong. He should show some compassion. But when Gerard gets his mind to something..."

Frank interrupted, "Gerard..."

The man looked over at him, a surprised expression plastered into his face.

"Oh, do you know him?"

The man then looked at Frank, then beside Frank where four empty beer bottles layed, then back at Frank.

"Oh shit!" The man looked at Frank with with a false expression of compassion and surprise that Frank is too distressed to notice the wrong nature. He lifts his hand, and whipped a tear off Franks cheek with his thump. Frank looks up.

Frank jumps at the man, and kisses him furiously. He pushes all his pain through the intensity if his lips, and tried to let go of Gerard by grabbing a handful of the man before him.

The man kisses up Frank jaw and to his ear, and whispers to him with a little laugh.  
"My name is Bert.".


	10. Drunk and Distressed

*Please take note that the last two chapters are taking place after the comic store scene while Gerard is still out walking. This chapter picks up at the end of that chapter. (In other words when Gerard was wandering around and such, Frank was in the Bar with Bert. Now they are both caught up to eachother.)

*Frank*

Frank watched out the car window as the full radio played a metal band in the backround. Everything bled together. The trees swept by with the moving car as they collided with the parked vehicles and mundane office buildings. The moon was high in the sky and set off most the light for the street.  
Frank sat in the passenger seat plucking at the ripped textile on his jeans, just taking in the sight and trying to focus.  
As he drove, he could've sword he saw Gerard.  
He almost cried out to him, but then he decided against it- Gerard didn't want him. It was easier for Gerard and he would still get paid. His mom would be home soon- he would go home then. It would be better for Gerard.  
His vision suddenly dissolve into black and blobs of color, and he felt as if he was going to loose what was little left in his stomach- mostly just the alcohol.

*Gerard*  
(Recap:  
Gerard walked for a little longer. The sky now grew dark, and the city atmosphere covered up the stars, but the street lamps showered the street in a piss yellow color.

He lost track of time.

On his way home, he could've sword that he saw a bright pair of eyes, just like Franks, connect with his in an unknown car that drove by.

But Gerard just played it off for his imagination again.)

Gerard arrived back at Franks house very early into the morning.  
He was exhausted, but there was no way he was going to be able to sleep with Frank having to come home soon.

Gerard kept trying to tell himself that Frank was going to come home, but something deep under was telling him that it was a little more complicated then that.

The front door opened and Gerard almost bashed his head open he ran to the door so quickly.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Gerard! I thought you were going to kill me!"

"Fuck Mikey! I thought you were Frank! Fuck." Gerard sat on the floor and held his head in his hands

"Gerard, I know you are upset, but we'll find him, I promise. He couldn't have gone far. Frank is a smart boy. I just know he'll come back." Mikey squatted down and rubbed Gerard's shivering spine.

"Mikey I can't fucking do this! I can't stand the thought of him being out there! Mikey! What if he is freezing to death! He's probably starving! Mikey, he gets sick so easily, I remember that one time it was raining and his jacket got wet and he seriously developed bronchitis on the way home and I had to practically carry his he couldn't breath. We have to get him, Mikey, we..."Mikey cut him off, not being able to stand his brother butcher himself like this.

"Listen, Gerard, listen. Gerard!" Mikey pulled his eyes up to meet his own, "I know you love Frank.."

Gerard tore his head immediately and looked at Mikey with horror, "I don't... love Frank!"

Mikey shook his head, "Okay Gerard, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just we'll look for him in the morning, I, Promise."

"I just want to have Frank back!"


	11. Rage and Fear

Frank was in a cloud. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Slung over Bert's shoulder, Frank was let out of the car, and was yet again exposed to the painful cold, but was relieved quickly as he was carried through the lobby of an old apartment building. Though the warmth relieved his from the frost, nothing- espicialy not the bobbing of running up the stairs over Bert- was going to rid of the headache the bled through his temples, and the churning of his already sensitive stomach.

Almost oblivious to his surroundings, all Frank wanted to do was sleep. His eyes were pulling down, gravity and drowsiness taking advantage over his will power to stay alert.

Soon enough, he was thrown down onto something, a bed maybe, Frank was too out if it to make anything of it, and he was out before he could take another breath.

~  
*meanwhile*

Gerard and Mikey trudged along the broken sidewalk, periodically tripping over small branches or curbs as a result if their distressed lack of sleep.

"Gerard, we've been looking for hour.."

"Mikey you promised! We have got to find him! What if he's our here starving somewhere! He's already skinny as it is! What is he gets sick! Mikey, I've told you how he gets sick! Mikey..."

"Yeah, Gerard. I know. We will find him. He will be okay, I promise. Gerard. Gerard are you alright?"

Gerard sniffled, "Yeah,Mikes. I'm okay, I promise." He waited a moment then looked at Mikey and continued, "No Mikey. I'm not okay. I'm not."

After pulling Gerard into a hug and assuring him that Frank could not be far, and that it was not Gerard's fault, they continued their search.

After entering and exiting multiple comic book and music stores, searching the parks where Gerard and Frank would go after a tough day, they still dragged themselves. Gerard was not testing until Frank was safe in his arms.

"Gerard, do you think that, um, maybe we should?" Mikey nudged his head toward the bar across the street suggesting to Gerard.

"He'll no, Mikey! I don't want to drink! Mikey, no, you know..."

Mikey rolled his eyes, "Fuck Gerard! I wasn't suggesting we go drink! I was thinking maybe Frank was in there!"

Gerard's face fell. Frank? In a bar? As far as he knew, Frank never drank. "Frank doesn't drink, Mikey. He's too young- well, way too young."

"Well, him drinking wouldn't be the only thing you don't know about him.." Mikey stopped as soon as he realized what he said and saw the hurt on his brothers face. "Shit, Im sorry Gerard, I didn't mean that. You're right. Frank doesn't seem like the drinking type."

Gerard shook his head and forced a small smile, "No Mikey, you're right. I guess we can at least check."

~

"Oh! That little kid! The short one! Yeah, got paid a pretty penny for him to get in here. He was sure a cutie.."

Gerard made a disgusted face at the bartender, "You let him in here?! What the hell, man?! You let a /kid/ pay you to get into a bar!!???"

The man rolled his eyes, "I didn't just let him pay me to get in here! The guy he was with did! It seemed real important to him. And he really boozed the kid up. I think he may have even slipped him a little something the way he was all over him, but Im not supposed to say," the man chuckled to himself a little , but stopped immediately when he saw the daggers Gerard was shooting him.

Mikey decided to step in, "Well who the HELL was he with? Man I hope that penny was worth it. You better fucking HOPE that that little fucker is okay."

Now finally coming to grips with the seriousness if the situation, the bartender replied, "Uh, I think his name was.." It took the man a genuine few minuites to think if the name, "I'm pretty sure his name was Bert."

Gerard practically fell out of his chair.

He slid his hands up his face and into his hair, tugging on it as he shouted, "BERT?!?!?!!"

"I mean, does it ring a bell?" The tended tried to say, no idea of the situation at hand.

"Oh my fucking GOD MIKEY! We've gotta.."

Mikey cut him off, "I'm already with ya, Gee."

As the two left the bar, the tender yelled after them, "I hope you find your little lover boy!"

Gerard shot back around and glared, anger, fear, and despair in his eyes, "Oh FUCK YOU! This is you're fucking fault." And just as he was about to leave, he changed his mind and turned to say something else, "And I do NOT fucking LOVE FRANK!"


	12. I Will Protect You

Frank slowly drifted into consciousness.

He was in pain.

He didn't remember much, but Frank knew that at that very moment, he was in so much pain it was almost unbearable.

In addition to his pain he felt something deep inside his chest, like a bad gut feeling, but before he could figure it out, he barely even felt the bile ride up his throat as he spurted whatever was left inside his body all over the... bed?

He couldn't open his eyes. It hurt. So he just later there, in his own vomit, tears, and blood, and screeched a cry of pain and agony.

Frank sat like that, withering in a curled up, shaking ball, and screamed and cried for what seemed like a lifetime before somebody entered the room.

"Fuck, Frank."

Frank still kept his eyes shut, clutching onto his stomach and crying in a heap.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Frank! You completely ruined my sheets! that's what I fucking get for letting you sleep on my bed. You little piece of shit."

At this point, even though it made shots of pain shoot through his veins, Frank pried his left eye open, and for a second, he thought the man in his presence was Gerard- the long black hair hanging over his face- but after closer examination, he realized that he was slightly too chunky to be Gee- and came quickly to the realization that that meant that he was in a random stranger's bedroom. 

Frank felt like he was going to throw up again. On account of how badly the man reacted as the result of his last vomit, Frank thought that maybe he should find a bathroom.

He went to stand up, but the pain blinded him temporarily, and his legs gave out beneath him causing him to fall on the floor beside the bed, and vomit all over the floor.

"What the fuck! What the hell, Frank! You piece of shit, the fuck did you do that for?!" The man stalked over the Frank and held a hand up like he was going to hit him, so Frank cowered away, but the man scooped him up (mostly lifting him by his hair) into his arms and carried him roughly out of the room, and down a tiny corridor, into what seemed like a bathroom, where the man deposited Frank, dropping him on the hard tile floor, instructing him to give him his clothes, and to shower so he wasn't so disgusting. "Do it fucking quick, too." The man left as soon as Frank gave him his clothes, and Frank gave a sigh of relief that he was gone. That man unnerved him.

Frank climbed into the shower, pain shooting up his legs, through his torso, all the way into his arms with every step, but it wasn't until he turned on the hot water that Frank looked down at his own body, shocked when he stung all over as the droplets- usually soothing and calming, made his whole body sting like rubbing alcohol over a fresh wound.

When his vision focused and he god a clear picture of his flesh, he leaned over and threw up, mostly dry heaves as there was nothing left in him.

The dried blood over a good amount of his body covered most of the carvings in his skin, but as the water washed away more and more of the red fluid, more and more if the discriminating words became legible.

Frank was reading them, crying when he heard a pounding on the door.

"I said to make it quick!"

When the pounding and screaming stopped, temporarily stunned but back into himself, Frank quickly peeled his eyes away from his body and washed the grime away from his skin and hair before turning off the water, stepping out if the shower, ruffling his hair so it wasn't dripping, and wrapping the towel around his shoulders-covering as much of himself as he could in embarrassment- and walks out of the bathroom to find the man he assumed took him in last night for whatever reason, and was apparently very angry at him as well.

"Fucking finally," The man muttered, when Frank found him in the room he had slept in, taking apart the sheets filled with many of Frank's body fluids.

When Frank just stood there, the man calls to him, "Clean the fucking floor you little mutt!" As he threw a cloth at him.

Frank scurried over to his mess on the floor. He sat on his hands and knees as he scrubbed. when he didn't finish in the amount of time the man had mentally alloyed him, he stalked over to Frank, and shoved him.

"What the fuck! I fucking take you in, and you mess my fucking house, and then you can't even clean it properly?!" The man shoves Frank again, throwing him off balance and onto the floor.

"I didn't fucking owe you this! you don't even know me! I saved you! you would've /died/ out there last night! and this is what I get?!" The man kicked Frank repeatedly with his bare foot, then called behind him, "Fucking finish!" before stalking out of the room, head high.

Frank mustered up all his strength, and finished cleaning the floor spotless, then collapsed into a blubbering heap onto the floor. He was in so much pain and was so confused.

He sat and cried and didn't notice the figure above him until he was tapped in the shoulder and heard a sigh, when Frank saw the man he instinctively curled in on himself. 

The man kneeled down beside Frank, and put a hand on his back and sighed when Frank recoiled against the touch. "Hey, Frank. Frankie, listen. I'm sorry. I was just mad. sometimes that happens to me. It's problem I have. Look, here, I brought some clean clothes for you," he held out the pulse of clothing for Frank to see, "Look, I'll go. You can change and I'll meet you in the living room when you are finished. Oh, poor Frankie, you don't remember anything do you? It's okay. I'll explain when you are finished."

The man left the room and Frank sat up and put in the sweatpants he was provided with, and the long sleeve shirt he was given, along with the socks to protect his feet from the cool December air.

He then took a deep breath, and headed out to find the living room. it was very easy to find, as it was a very small apartment, and when he arrived the man was there with two cups of warm coffee, Frank assuming one was for him and the other was for the man, on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Frank went over and sat down on as far away from the man on the couch as possible.

"Oh, don't be afraid. First off, my name is Bert. I made up some coffee." Frank nodded, and grabbed the cup and held the warmth in his hands before bringing it to his lips to sip it.

"I guess you would like me to explain why you are here, and not home, correct?"

Frank nodded warily again. The man chuckled at him.

"Well truth is that I found you in the alley next to the bar on 34th street on my way home from work. I was quite surprised when I saw you, I almost called the cops," Bert paused and added because of the alarmed look on Franks face," but no, I did not. You were so drunk when I found you, I could barely understand you. But when I asked you what had happened to you, it is obviously not nature for boys if your age to be in alley ways all cut up, you muttered and slurred something along the lines of you getting into a fight with your boyfriend, and him getting so mad he cut you all up and threw you out of the house. And then some other men offered you some booze at the sight of your injuries to ease the pain. You told me that you just drank too much and that you were okay in the alley, but I took you back here anyway, I didn't want you to be hurt again."

Frank did not remember any of that. To be honest, he didn't remember much of the night before at all, but he did remember faintly getting into an argument with Gerard, but Gerard was not his boyfriend. Maybe he just said that in his drunken state. But Gerard wouldn't do this to him, would he?

When Frank let a tear escape from his eye, Bert pulled him onto his lap and into a hug. They sat like that in an embrace for a long time until Bert spoke up. "Frankie? You must be starving. Do you want something to eat?"

The idea seemed really tempting but Frank pictured the carved words on his body he had seen in the shower and decided against the idea.

But he did not even have the time to answer when there was a loud pounding at the front door.

"BERT YOU FUCKER! YOU BETTER OPEN UP RIGHT NOW! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I FUCKING KNOW YOU HAVE FRANK!"

Frank burst into tears at the sound if Gerard's voice and shook violently. Bert patted Gerard's head and cooed into his ear, "S'okay, s'okay baby. I'll protect you."


	13. Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself

Frank sat in Bert's room, just as he was told. He sat crouched in the corner, a blanket draping his shoulders, his knees pulled to his chest, quietly weeping for this all to be over.

Why was Gerard here?  
Why would Gerard be looking for Frank?  
Frank did not trust Gerard, he'd hurt him.  
Frank did not want Gerard there.

Frank wept. The tears trying to carry out Frank's inner turmoil.

Faintly in the background, Frank could hear Gerard and Burt bickering very violently, with little comments from Mikey every few seconds.

"Goddamit, Burt! why don't you let it go! It wasn't meant to be!" 

"Fuck you Gerard!"

"Bert! I know what you did to him!"

"What the hell did I do? I gave him a place to stay! I cleaned him up! Let him use my shower! YOU are the one that pushed him away!"

Then there was a slight pause followed by a frantic Mikey saying, "Gerard. Stop! Calm down."

"How the hell could I calm down! What about Frank!"

Bert said something Frank couldn't make out, and Franks not sure I he waned to hear. Then, Bert silenced, and Frank could hear footsteps coming towards Bert's room, and Mikey mumbling something.

Gerard was coming for Frank again.

Frank his in the closet, quilt around him like a swaddled new born, and he cried in fear.

What if Gerard got him again?

*

"Yea Mikey! I did have to! Yes! he'll be fine! Yeah, this is it!"

Gerard fumbled with the door handle, then entered the immaculate room, and took a step in. Besides the faint smell of vomit, the room was clean.

And Gerard did not see Frank anywhere.

Gerard and Mikey cautiously tip toed around the room whispering, "Frank, where are you hum?", "Frank, it's okay." 

Gerard turned to Mikey and put a single finger on his lips, signaling for hi to be quiet. Though with a look of confusion, Mikey kept silent.

Within a minute, Gerard could hear the fair whimpers coming from the closet.

Gerard tip toed an slowly slid the door. He knelt down, and uncovered the face of Frank, buried under the quilt.

Gerard was taken aback by Franks appearance. The older wounds from him encounter on the walk home were still very apparent, bruises glowing a brutal yellow-purple color, and scars starting to scab over. But on top were a few new wounds- a big purple new bruise that grazes over his left cheekbone, and other little, round shaped ones down his jaw and neck. The boy had the look of pure terror on his face.

Gerard whispered, "It's okay now, hun. I came and found you. We can go home."

Frank tried with every ounce of his power to scream, but no noise came out of his throat.

He did not even try to struggle away when Gerard picked him up over his shoulder and carried him through the apartment. He was paralyzed in fear.

The tears started steaming over his cheeks, not because he was in pain, but only when he saw Bert on the ground, a small bit of blood falling from his nose as a big blue mark formed behind it.


	14. Peekaboo

"Ugh, Mikey. I just don't know what to do!" Gerard sighed as he pressed his forehead against the cool, wooden kitchen table. His thumbs encircles his temples as he anxiously tapped his foot. His head was swimming.

"Gerard, I know this is hard. But who knows what Bert did to him?" Mikey tried to soothe his brother.

Gerard switched his gaze from the table beneath him, to through the doorway into the living room, where Frank day on the floor, his back to the couch and one of his knees held to his chest while the other rested on the floor. He had held the arms of his sweatshirt over his hands, and had the hood pulled up all the way over his head. He held a steady staring game with the floor, but he seemed to notice Gerard's eyes on him, and when he looked up, he noticeably recoiled and folded in in himself even more than he did before. Gerard sighed and looked away again, switching his eyes to Mikey.

"Give him time, Gerard," Mikey whispered.

"Mikey! It's been two days! He has not moved for the livingroom, or spoken, or even eaten in two days!"

Mikey could see the tears forming in Gerard's eyes, "I know, Gerard. I know. You shouldn't push him to talk though. We should try to get him to eat something, and up into bed though. I don't think he's slept much."

Gerard gave Mikey a nervous look, but got to his feet and tiptoed into the living room. He tried to keep his feet of making any noise, but the old floorboards squeezed under some of his steps, and Frank was looking up at him a little when Gerard looked towards him.

Frank looked at him not with the look of love or happiness that Gerard would die for, but with a complete fear and sadness that Gerard was not new to, but would never get used to.

Still a few feet away, Gerard squatted down slightly, and whispered in the softest voice he could manage while still being comprehendible, "Hey, Frankie. Do you want to go up to bed and get some sleep?"

Frank just stared at him and did not move and inch. Showed no sign of saying a word.

"Please?"

Frank still did not respond, nor move, so Gerard gave off a sigh of defeat, and stood up, giving one last look to the heap on the floor, and turned around to leave.

Before he got to the doorway,Gerard heard the slightest creek, but despite his doubts he turned around.

Frank was standing. Gerard smiled. He moved his arm to motion Frank to follow him.

Franks steps were very light and quick, almost ghostlike, and most certainly hesitant, but regardless, they made it up to the Ways' guest bedroom, where Mikey had set up a plate if peanutbutter toast, and a glass of milk as well as water. 

"Oh! Mikey left that for you. you don't have to eat it, but you must be hungry. Goodnight." Gerard whispered to Frank as if he was a glass so delicate that it would shatter if someone spoke too loud.

Frank stood in the middle of the room and looked at his feet. 

Just as Gerard was about to leave the room, he had a second thought. he poked his head in and added a small, "If you need anything I'm the next door down on the left. Anything."

Frank didn't even look up.

~~~

Frank was in such inner turmoil. His brain bounced back and forth, and he was so tired but was unable to sleep,

He was too scared.

Something inside him was telling him not to fear, but another, stronger part was telling him the opposite.

~~~

When Gerard woke up, the sky was still dark, and the numbers on his clock told him it was far too early for him to be rising,

If his alarm hadn't gone off, why had he woken up? He got up to go to the bathroom, designating that as the culprit.

On his walk, he heard a cry. At first, Gerard was very confused, his sleeping mind was very slow. But when he noticed the cries were coming from Frank's room, he was wide awake, and he rushed towards the guest room.

When he entered, Frank looked to small on the big bed. He was sleeping with his face to the wall on top of the covers. next to his bedside was his toast with a single bite taken out if it, and the liquids undisturbed. 

Then Frank cried out again.

Gerard raced over to his bedside and sat down.

"Frank! Frank, are you okay? Frankie, wake up!"

Frank stirred slightly, but did not wake up. Though, all traces of what seemed to have been a nightmares appeared to have passed.

Gerard smiled slightly and tucked Frank in, and got up to leave, but sat back down, and leaned down and placed a nervous, hesitant kiss to Frank's forehead.

When he sat back up, Franks eyes were wide open in horror.

 

Frank screamed, not one word, but symphonies if blood curdling cries. his legs were thrashing, and his arms were flying as he wailed.

Gerard decided against trying to comfort him, and for up, arms raised in surrender.

"I'm sorry," he yelled as he ran out if the room, tears streaming down his cheeks.


	15. The Waiting Game (Mini Chapter)

"Frank, common', open up. Frank, please. Frank are you even in there? Please be in there... Jesus Christ, Frank."

Gerard knocked in the door with loud but careful rasps, trying to get Frank's attention.

It was quiet in there, but Gerard knew he was in there. He felt him.

"Frank what can I do?" When there was no reply, Gerard sat down next to the door.

This was it, he was going to talk to Frank and that was that.

"Frank, I'm not leaving until you tell me something. Anything..." Gerard was getting desperate.

After a few moments, there was a stir inside the room, and he could hear Frank moving about the surface. Gerard got excited.

As the figure moved closer to the door, Gerard stood, expecting it to swing any moment, but instead, a small slip if paper slid from under the door.

Gerard let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He leaned down to pick the note up, and on the paper was a scrawl that Gerard made out to read, "Guitar."

It took him a minute, but the lightbulb clicked and Gerard raced down the stairs to grab one of Mikey's guitars that were laying in the livingroom.

Gerard set it outside the door, knocked quietly, and waited.

Nothing happened.


	16. The Waiting Game (Mini Chapter)

"Frank, common', open up. Frank, please. Frank are you even in there? Please be in there... Jesus Christ, Frank."

Gerard knocked in the door with loud but careful rasps, trying to get Frank's attention.

It was quiet in there, but Gerard knew he was in there. He felt him.

"Frank what can I do?" When there was no reply, Gerard sat down next to the door.

This was it, he was going to talk to Frank and that was that.

"Frank, I'm not leaving until you tell me something. Anything..." Gerard was getting desperate.

After a few moments, there was a stir inside the room, and he could hear Frank moving about the surface. Gerard got excited.

As the figure moved closer to the door, Gerard stood, expecting it to swing any moment, but instead, a small slip if paper slid from under the door.

Gerard let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He leaned down to pick the note up, and on the paper was a scrawl that Gerard made out to read, "Guitar."

It took him a minute, but the lightbulb clicked and Gerard raced down the stairs to grab one of Mikey's guitars that were laying in the livingroom.

Gerard set it outside the door, knocked quietly, and waited.

Nothing happened.


	17. Rare Porcelain

The familiar scene played out once again with Gerard sitting, sulking at the hard wood kitchen table which now had a feel recognizable on his elbows, his hands supporting his face while also distorting it in a way that only online editing programs can accomplish at times.

His shoeless feet tapped at the linoleum floor, beat in sync with the music playing through his head, but not distracting his from his distress and anxiousness.

"Mikey, I feel like giving up. I don't know what to do anymore. I just screwed up really badly this time."

"Oh, common Gerard," Mikey shuffled over from the counter with two, mismatched mugs in his hands. "Just, I know you've felt like you've been waiting forever, but time is what I think this needs. I know, I know, I sound like a record on repeat, but I don't know what else so do but let this play itself out."

"Mikey, he won't even speak to me! I just..."

"Shh!" Mikey cut him off and covered his brother's mouth with his hand, which earned him a confused and slightly annoyed look.

"Gerard, listen!" Mikey whispered.

Dancing in the background, filling the house ever so slightly, was the nervous strums of a guitar.

Gerard ran/tip-toes up the stairs and down the hall to the room Frank was in, and pressed his ear to the door, takin in the music being created by what was not a doubt Frank.

Gerard was conflicted on what to do next, so he just sat down on the carpeted floor, and played with his fingers as he listened to the vibrations bounce around the walls.

And he sat, just like that for about 25 minutes, almost in a trance.

Then he slowly got up, and turned the doorknob while knocking on the door ever so lightly.

Just as he had done before this whole mess, Gerard tip toe toward Frank, who sat in a corner on the right side on the room, and sat cross-legged about two feet from Frank, their knees aligned.

Frank had his eyes shut lightly, as his head rested on the body of Mikey's acoustic guitar. His hands strummed the strings with such familiarity and passion, his fingers contorting in ways Gerard knew he would meet be able to accomplish.

Lost in his star gazing, Gerard tenses as he saw Frank's strumming start to slow and eventually stop. he took a deep but shallow breath, then opened his eyes, completed.

Then he saw Gerard.

And the soft look in his eyes was soon replaced with dilated corneas, and a piercing surprise and fear that would probably be compared to a sleeping lamp waking up to see a fox strain it right in the eyes.

But he did not move.

And Gerard did not breathe.

The time felt frozen, and the air felt heavy.

But finally, Gerard knelt, and walked on his knees slowly over to Frank, and took the guitar- one hand on the neck and one hand on the body- and kites it from Franks lap, setting it against the wall next to them.

"It will be okay. Trust me," Gerard breathed.

With that, he held out his hand, and began to stand keeping his arm in that same place.

After a few moments that felt like hours in Gerard's mind, Frank, very hesitantly and nervously, took ahold if Gerard's hand and allowed his to pull him from the ground so they were both on their feet.

Gerard smiled inwardly.

Frank sighed, motive motive unclear to Gerard.

Gerard guided frank out if the room, and down the stairs toward the living room, treating Frank's hand like a rare porcelain.


	18. Red Letters

They sat in the living room. Technically together, but so completely separated.

Frank sat on one end, back straight and uncomfortable against the back of the couch. He had the sleeves of his sweatshirt tucked in his palms, shielding his hands from anything that dared to see them. His kneed were closed, feet hanging just a few inches short of the floor.

Gerard sat likewise for a little while, except his black short sleeve shirt moved slightly with the flow of the ceiling fan, and the slight up and down movement of his chest with his breathing. Uncomfortable with the painful and unknowing silence, he ran a hand through his raven black hair, and let out a deep breath, as he swiveled around to the side table. With his sketch book scooped in his hand, he brought his beet up to the couch and vended his kneed with his back facing the side of the couch and his feet in the direction of Frank.

He didn't know what to do or what to say, so he picked up some crayons, and did what he always did when this sort of situation came up. He drew.

He zoned out while his hand began to move. He thought about everything that has happened. He thought about why he was in so much pain. He thought about his frustration in Frank not talking to him, and putting every last millimeter of space between them when they used to be so close. .

He ripped out the sketch book page,, and on it was a drawing of Frank's favorite comic book character. He folded it into an airplane shape. With Frank looking at him out if the corner of his eye, he tossed the plane and has it soar the few feet over to his old friend, and watched him pick it up.

Frank wasn't as much as confused, as conflicted. He took the paper plane in his hands, and ran his fingers along the exterior as if it were a puppy. He felt the creases, and studied the way it was folded. It were as if he were taking a picture with his hands. Then, he slowly and cautiously unfolded the plane.

Gerard looked on anxiously. He did an inner dance as he watched the look in Franks eyes smile a little. 

Gerard scribbled a little something else onto some paper, and once again tossed it over to Frank.

Once again, Frank studied the plane.  
He opened it to find Gerard's scrawl spelling "Frank" and a sketch of a crayon underneath.

Frank looked up from the paper to find Gerard placing the crayons and sketch pad directly in between the two of them. He reached out, and pulled it to him. Because his drawing skills were not as good as Gerard's, he thought for a few moments before he decided what to draw.

When Gerard received the paper airplane for the first time, he opened it up, and was puzzles. Them it hit him. He got up, and moved toward the kitchen, where he came back with two, big, cups of hot coffee. One was just the way Frank liked it.

Gerard sent a drawing back to Frank as he sipped his coffee.

Frank consequently rose from his seat on the couch to fetch a purple plush blanket from the chair across the doom, and he handed it to Gerard.

Gerard soon got up to grab a sand which for Frank from the fridge.

Gerard received his sweatshirt (he was cold).

After a few more notes back and forth, Gerard had an idea.

On his sketch book he teaches Franks as best as he could while still being quick as to not keep him waiting, but on his face, he made him sad and scared; the same look that had troubled Gerard so much. He followed it with a question mark, and sent the note.

It was a few minutes before Frank picked up a crayon, but it was soon enough that Gerard got the reply he had been searching for for days.

On the note was a depiction if eyes. Confused, Gerard looked up at Frank for another clue, or perhaps some guidance.

When he looked over, Frank had pulled off his sweatshirt, and placed it on the couch beside him. He pulled his shirt up.

When Gerard looked over he was shocked. He took in the canvas that was Frank's body, and all the colors that littered it.

The still blue bruises as well as the green and yellow ones, fallen stars never wished on.  
The red of dried blood smeared across his torso, a sunset never watched.  
The words carved into his skin, the ones the dictionary doesn't name.  
Purple, round, legions, the lamarks that are never seen.

Gerard went, instinctively, to touch Frank, but pulled away when Frank flinched.

He flew an airplane over with nothing but a question mark.

In reply, he got a lonely page with nothing but red letters.

"Gerard".

The tears began to fall, and hopeless explanations made.


	19. Bad bad bad

Gerard's breath was caught in his chest, fighting and pushing to be let out, but Gerard's sheer combination if disbelief, disgust, sympathy, and confusion was creating a blockade.

"But, Frank, I don't understand, I didn't do that to you I promise! I swear!" Gerard leaned forward, going to place his hand on Frank's shoulder, but the boy scooted back as far as possible and pushed away, tears welling in the corner of his eyes.

He drew his hand back and used it to bring his knees to him chest, and try to get a grip.

"Frank, what the hell... wait, why would you think that I would ever do that to you?" Gerard looked up to meet Frank's eyes, but they were gone as soon as the opportunity arose. Gerard unfolded his legs, and kneeled a little, and nudged the sketchbook towards Frank. He looked up, and with a few seconds of apprehension, he brought it closer to him, and took the crayon and began to draw while Gerard looked on and waited anxiously.

When the book arrived back in Gerard's hands, there was a childish drawing of a boy with long black hair, and the letter "b" next to it. Frank wrung his hands and looked into his lap ad Gerard tried to interpret the drawing.

Then it hit him like a brick to the head, and he nearly fell over, baffled and appalled.

It was Bert. It was so obvious that that it hurt. Bert had done this to him. Bert told him it was Gerard. Bert made Frank like this.

He looked up to catch Frank's eye or the first time that night, and Gerard slowly began to shake his head.

"No, no no no, Frankie. I would never ever do that to you. It was Bert! He did that to you! I could never!" Gerard could barely get the words out, he was suffocating. 

Frank's face twisted when he heard this, and he looked Gerard right in the eye and whispered the first words he would hear from Frank since he got him back, "No, no, no." Frank shook his head even more as he held it in his hands, "No, No, he saved me, he saved me, he told me he saved me, he sid he was good, he said he was good, good, you are bad, you are bad." Gerard rode and began walking towards Frank, but Frank did the same, except swifter and shuffled backwards, head still in his hands.

"No. he said you did this to me. You are bad. Said you kicked me out," his back his the wall, "he said I was in pain, he said he gave it to me to make me feel better," his hands covered his eyes and breath became more desperate."He saved me, he took me and saved me, you are bad, he saved me but you got me, you got me, you have be, he saved me..." his knees buckled and he slipped back down to the floor and sobbed and thrashed.

Gerard was speechless. 

He was motionless.

He watched the suffering and confused boy in front of him.

He fell to his knees, and scuttled a little closer, and lightly placed a hand on his ankle, which caused Frank to look up sharply, and pull it away.

"No, let me explain, please, let me explain.."

Not sure whether i was the look in his eyes, o just sensing his desperation, Frank slowly sat up, and looked at Gerard, bracing himself.


	20. You know that, Right?

Feet in the grass, their fingers the perpetrators towards the innocent flowers amongst them. 

"Frank, it will be okay, you know that right?" 

The small boy looked up and nodded his head.

"Frank, Frankie, I'm sorry, you know that right?"

Frank looked like he was about to say something, but his attention was stolen from the dog that just ran by, basking in its freedom on its daily trip to the park.

"Frank, I really hope you understand. I didn't mean for anything to happen to you. I will never forgive myself. I never stopped thinking about you while you were gone. I don't know how i would live with myself if you don't know that."

Frank picked a daisy. A particularly pretty one, and handed it to Gerard. Gerard picked one of equal beauty and put it behind Frank's ear.

"Frank, hell, you know I've always loved you right?"

Frank stopped and looked up at Gerard. Gerard reached out for Frank's arm, and kissed one of the many bruises that littered Frank's wrists. Frank got up and hugged Gerard.

They cried.

Gerard carried Frank home, over his shoulder.

 

^^^^^^^  
"Frank, I'm home!" 

Frank jumped off the couch from where he was playing video games with Gerard."

"Mom! I missed you so much!"

After the general hellos and updates, Gerard excused himself.

"Frank was a pleasure. I'll see you tomorrow after school, Frankie."

 

 

****  
I'm glad this is finally over. I'm excited for new projects. Thank you all for reading (:


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